The Lyin', The Switch, and the Montgomery Wardrobe
by J.S. Webster
Summary: Chapter 1, Loosey Checks Out the Robe: In which Loosey Peeve-Antsy and her adorable siblings Pewter, Sudsy, and Edmundane are sent to the Dear Professor's House, and Loosey discovers the Professor's queer old robe.
1. Chapter 1

THE LYIN', THE SWITCH & THE MONTGOMERY WARD ROBE

from the Blarnia for Filthy Unbelievers Series

by C.S. Slew Us

**Chapter 1: Loosey Checks Out the Robe**

Once there were four children whose names were Pewter, Sudsy, Edmundane and Loosey. Their last name was Peeve-Antsy. And the reason for this is because, like most children, half the time they acted peevish, and the other half of the time they acted like stinging insects were biting their buttocks. (Their mother and father had the last name Smith. How they got such a queer last name involves legal documents, tax codes, unwarranted searches and seizures, brutally efficient exploitation of the working class in the time-honored tradition of imperialist societies everywhere, the eradication of entire languages, and of course, mass movements of nomadic tribes over thousands of years—at least, according to _Them_.)

This story is about something that happened to the children when they were sent away from London because their parents were heartless and cruel people who did things Differently, though of course in their own minds they were just being Sensible, which is what happens to those who don't believe in the power of Deep Magic. Since their thoughtless children would just as soon rather throw monkey dung at a Bible as believe in the War, they were sent to the house of an old Professor, who taught at Oxford but would much rather have spent his time writing books such as this one. When he came to greet them, he was so odd-looking that they forgot to mind their manners and laughed so hard that snot ran out of their noses and Loosey without giving it much thought wiped her mucous-laden hand on the Professor's robe. So they were sent to bed with no supper.

"What a dear man," said Sudsy.

"I wasn't hungry anyway," said Pewter. "I say, Edmundane, why are you scratching yourself? And not even on your buttocks!"

"I'm not scratching, I'm just searching for my Turkish Delight," replied Edmundane with a dark look that foreshadowed his ultimate betrayal of his siblings.

"The ones you nipped?" asked Loosey with an adorable grin.

"Shut your yap!" groused Edmundane in a most disagreeable manner.

"I say, let's forego this unpleasantness and have some fun!" cried Pewter. "Let's ransack the house!"

And so they did.

It was a very quiet ransacking, of course, as the children had already grown so fond of the Professor that they wished not to wake him from one of his numerous naps. And after they'd smashed all the pictures in a very long room and put a good dent into a suit of armor and cut the strings on a harp and burned holes in dozens of books with a box of curious matches that never went out and drew pentagrams on the floors of all the bedrooms and put soggy toilet paper in the dumbwaiter, they came upon a room that was quite empty except for a giant robe bunched up on the floor, with a tag on it that said "Montgomery Ward."

Well, except for a blue-bottle on the windowsill that was buzzing its brains out. "Let's catch it and pull its legs off," said Sudsy. While she and Edmundane and Pewter did that, Loosey decided to hide under the robe. There was nothing Loosey liked so much as the smell and feel of an old robe.

Only the more she tunneled under, the more loose folds she encountered. "This must be a simply enormous robe!" thought Lucy as she swam through the folds. "I never realized how great a man the Professor truly is!"

Next she found that she was rubbing her face against something hard and prickly. "Tree branches? No, just pipe cleaners," she said to herself. "And goodness, here's his stinky tobacco pouch. Oops, and those must have been his spectacles," she added, the glass making a satisfying scrunching sound as she dug her heel into it.

"And, oh my. I can't believe this. He stuffed his pockets with shaved ice! Except, he spilled it all over the floor. Except—I say, is that Edmundane's electric torch?"

And she saw that where the floor should have been was actually snow-covered ground. She looked up, and saw snowflakes softly settling on her cute, turned-up nose, just like one of those ornament balls with fake snow in them that swirls around when you shake it. Only this was real. Sort of. Then she noticed she was actually in a wood. And the robe was somewhere Over There or something.

"Whatever," she sighed, forgetting that kids hadn't started using that word yet. "And then, what's Edmundane's electric torch doing there? And it's abnormally huge!"

As she stood there wondering, a delightfully magical snowball sang silently through the air and thumped her on the back, right between the shoulder blades, sending a shower of shivery crystals cascading between her collar and neck. After doing a faceplant in the cold wet stuff, she heard a cackling laugh and the pitter patter of hooves coming her way. When she lifted her head up, she saw a very strange person stepping out from among the trees and into the light cast by the electric torch.

He was only a trifle taller than Loosey herself and he carried an armful of snowballs in one arm and he held a tiny package in his other. From the waist downward he was like a man, but he had a terribly hairy chest, and most remarkable of all, the head of a goat. Though he was a pleasant sort of goat. Around his neck was an enormous red tie, the only clothing he wore other than the immaculately tailored trousers that appeared to magically repel the snow even as it fell on them.

"Gotcha!" he exclaimed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: What Disgusting Things Loosey Found There**

But Lucy was so busy picking herself up from the snow that at first she didn't reply. When she finally got up she stuck out her tongue and hurled an icicle onto a snow-laden branch hanging over the stranger; which caused the branch to drop its load directly on him; which sent him into a fit of spluttering and screaming words which neither you nor I ought to really hear.

"That'll teach you!" said Loosey presently.

"Aha, but you didn't get my trousers!" he gloated. Then he trotted over and got right in Loosey's face. "Hey," he said. "You're a Daughter of Eve, right?"

"Actually, my mum's name is Alice. My name's Loosey. And yours?"

"But you are in fact Human?"

"Of course, you nitwit. And what about you?"

"Well, Loosey, I'm known as Mr. Tummyness. As for what I AM, I'd rather not say."

"Is that because you're not human? You look like one of those Satires."

"Hah, hah, very Fauny."

"I wasn't trying to be funny."

"That's because you're no Faun at all, Daughter of Alice. And it's Satyr, not Satire."

Loosey chose to ignore this. "I don't see why your name is Mr. Tummyness, since you haven't much of one. A tummy, I mean."

"Well, you should have seen me a hundred years ago, when the sun was out and the drink was flowing and we had Tea three times a day. That's because with all this blasted winter weather the economy's fallen on hard times, and there's bloody little to eat these days."

"What's the 'economy'?"

"Another fairytale. But tell me, Alice's daughter, how you came you into Blarnia?"

"What the? Where the bleep is that?" said Loosey.

"Why, that's where we are. You know, all the way from the electric torch here to the castle at Pear Caramel to the great Blarnia Stone, which every pilgrim of Asslamb wishes to kiss. And you? You have come from the Wild West?"

"I—I came from the robe. You know, the one with the stinky tobacco and all."

"Ah!" said Mr. Tummyness, wagging his beard in a capricious manner. "I've never been to Robe, though I've heard it's wise to do as the Robans do."

"But the robe's not a country at all, you blithering fool! And why in God's name is it winter here? Why didn't anyone warn me? I'd be wearing my fur-trimmed boots at the very least!"

"What? You get eternal summer where you're from? By Asslamb, no fair! But come, Daughter of Alice. We're standing out here freezing our butts off in the snow. Won't you come inside and join me for a spot of tea?"

"Ooo, my momma warned me about Fauns like you!"

"Come now, it's just a snowball's throw from here," said Mr. Tummyness, "and there'll be a roaring fire, and sardines—"

"Ugh!"

"—all right then, toast—"

"Bor-ing."

"Um, chocolate cake?"

"Deal. But no funny stuff, Mr. T."

"Splendid. Then take my hand, and we will goat to my place."

"I SAID, no funny stuff."

They hadn't gone far before they came to a cave, just the cutest, most coziest cave in the whole world, ooo! Mr. Tummyness was dying to explain to Loosey how he'd just redecorated, but he could see how famished she was so he put water on to boil and brought out the cake on dear tiny plates next to dear tiny cups. Loosey was in heaven. While waiting her Tea, she checked out his library: the books had titles like _How To Get Down With Nymphs_ and _Zeus' Secrets For Zesty Living While Avoiding Commitments_ and _Bacchus: Misunderstood Rebel_.

"Drink up, Daughter of Alice," said Mr. T as he handed her a cup of the most wonderfully smelling brew that Loosey had ever set nostrils to.

And really it was a wonderful tea. "Mmmm," said Loosey on first sip, "its nose holds together superbly, with an aftertaste of peaches and oak."

"With just a smidgeon of toe cheese," added Mr. T.

"But Mr. T, you haven't any toes!"

"Hoof cheese, then."

And on they went. When Lucy was tired of talking about the tea, she ate cake, and when she was tired of the cake she drank tea. And then the Faun told Loosey wonderful tales of life in the forest: the midnight dances, the cruising for feasts, the worshipping of idols. "Only they're approved by Asslamb, of course," he added. Then he went on about the treasures and the dwarves and the dragons and the mines and the castles and the stars up above, and a thang called love. And how Bacchus would sometimes show up with his posse and the streams would turn to wine and the whole forest would get their freak on.

"Awesome," murmured Loosey, getting sleepier by the moment.

"How about some flute music?"

"Oh, Mr. T, I'd love to, but—I really must go. Mr. T?"

The Faun had put down the flute and was now roaring with laughter.

"Mr. Tummyness!" If there was one thing that Loosey found to be terribly unpleasant, it was mythological creatures that made fun of her. "Mr. Tummyness, will you do tell me what is so funny?" But the Faun just howled harder, and when Loosey went over and pulled on his little beard he still laughed. "Do stop at once, Mr. T! Think of something serious! Think of…oh, the effect of pork belly futures on the commodities index!"

That seemed to do the trick. "I'd never invest in pork bellies, and anyway I'm part goat. And a wicked goat at that."

"But why were you laughing so hard?"

"Because," he said, repressing a giggle, "you actually thought you'd be LEAVING here."

"Go on."

"The Switch hired me, you see."

"Say what?"

"The Switch. She's the one who brought down the chill on Blarnia. And now she's hired me to lure innocent Sons of Adam and Daughters of Eve into my den and then hand them over to her."

"But I'm a Daughter of Alice, not Eve."

"Oh…yeah. I forgot about that. "

"So I guess I'd better be going. The Professor may pick up his robe to get it laundered any minute now."

"But…" Now tears replaced laughter, the huge drops rolling down his goat face and cascading to the floor. "But she'll cut off my tail and call me a ninny and won't invite me to any of her parties," he moaned.

"Not my problem. Can you show me the way back, please?"

"O-tay. Pwease forgib me."

"Yeah, sure. Just take me back to the robe."

So quietly as possible they snuck out and a hop, skip and a jump later they were under Edmundane's electric torch.

"Toodles, Mr. T."

"Have you nothing for me to remember you by, Daughter of Alice?"

"Yeah. You can have this," said Loosey, handing him a shard from the Professor's broken glasses. She then ran to the robe, still on the ground and half-frozen, but still crawl-underable. And presently instead of folds she felt a draft, and instead of a snowy ground she felt floorboards, and then she heard the voice of Pewter screaming, "Bloody Hell! The blue-bottle bit me!"

"Thank goodness, I'm back!" she shouted.


End file.
